Part 2

"Lieutenant Hawkins is hit! Shit, someone cover him!"

He hated hearing the reports of who was shot and the agonized groans coming over the radio. The only thing he could be happy about in this situation was that no one was down.

"They're even tougher than the rumors say! Don't take them lightly—they aren't some kind of tall tale! Ahh, geez, I can't believe that crazy story was true—goddamnit!"

It wasn't just some phantom the Entente Alliance and Republic cowards conjured up!

All those stories about the Devil of the Rhine, about an imperial unit running amok at eight thousand—what about that was just a legend? It's not nonsense at all; they're actually an elite, terrible enemy unit that we've been underestimating!

What were the intelligence analysts doing, those freeloaders?!

"Ngh! We're getting out of here! Slowing them down and collecting intel isn't worth any further risk!"

-x-X-x-

MAY 28, UNIFIED YEAR 1925, COMMONWEALTH HUMANITARIAN AID GROUP PEACE WORLD'S HOSPITAL ADJACENT TO THE REPUBLICAN RHINE ARMY

GROUP HEADQUARTERS

-x-X-x-

"…Ngh. I don't know this ceiling…"

Forcing his muddled consciousness to function, Captain Cagire Caine from the Republican Rhine Army Group headquarters took stock of his situation.

Okay, here he is, thought John as he casually pushed the nurse call button. He was being considerate because Caine had to be totally fatigued.

He must be on a potent drug, some kind of long-acting sedative.

Well, that's probably the kindest thing to do for a man who was half-dead from horrible burns and carbon monoxide poisoning, rather than letting him thrash around.

Anyhow, as long as I can talk to him, that's fine. I should just ask what I need to ask.

That's what he decided to do, but… if he was being honest, he felt that someone returned from the brink of death had the right to a little peace.

His vision must be okay. If he can make out the ceiling, he can see colors. That said, since he can't move his body at all, his field of vision is limited. But his ears and mouth are working normally. It'd be nice if he'd realize I'm here.

Anyhow, he's alive. Given that, an Intelligence agent would be trained to wonder where he is.

Then John thought he should respond to Cagire's confusion. If this pain-in-the-ass Intelligence guy mistakes me for an enemy, it'll be more trouble than it's worth.

"So you're awake?" John addressed him calmly in a voice the captain should have been able to recognize.

"…Who are you? I beg your pardon, but please give me your name and rank."

John didn't expect to be asked that, but he couldn't fault the fellow for following procedure.

Although he would remember if he weren't utterly incapacitated.

"Sure. You're Captain Cagire Caine, and you can call me Mr. John. I'm from the Commonwealth. Haven't seen you in a while."

"Oh, Mr. John."

He pretended to understand. Well, even I have to admit it sounds pretty fishy, but a soldier doesn't ask questions when they've been told not to go poking their nose around. Anyhow, they knew each other's faces.

As far as the previous intel went, at least, they weren't enemies. They were on friendly enough terms to cooperate and exchange intel. Hence, "Mr. John" was enough to be understood.

"So, Mr. John, why am I tied down?"

No wonder he was so confused, questioning why he was bound to the bed.

"Ahh, you're not really tied down. Your meds are mostly pain-killers." "Huh? So I lost almost all feeling in my body from pain-killers?"

From the file the nurses brought when he pushed the button, it didn't seem like he should be fully numb, though. Maybe some of his nerves are shot.

…And so young, poor chap. May the Lord have mercy… amen.

"If writhing in pain is a masochistic quirk of Republicans, then I suppose we've committed a cultural faux pas."

Geez, at this rate, it doesn't seem like I'm going to find out where the imperial mole is hiding.

And apparently, his pessimism wasn't misplaced.

Caine suffered from memory loss due to carbon monoxide poisoning. Frustratingly, he wasn't in any position to provide useful information. "Get well soon."

With that, John left the room and heaved a sigh. Then he picked up the hospital telephone.

He had to notify the Republican Army that he'd just barely managed to save one of their officers' lives. But he had to say what he couldn't say earlier—that the way the man was, he was closer to a corpse.

The only thing he learned was that Caine didn't know what had happened immediately before he was injured. Sadly, his condition rapidly deteriorated after their conversation.

The top drily responded that he should be promptly turned over rather than probed for no good reason, so there was John giving the notice.

…Given the Republic's changing circumstances, this is my only choice. A calculating thought came to mind. It was true that if the fellow didn't last long, they would no longer need to have a "charity organization" based in a "hazardous region."

Also, John mentally added, considering how furious General Habergram is going to be, the Republic should bear some of the blame.

And it's regrettable that my flight back was set up so efficiently. Just the thought of how grouchy Habergram must have gotten made him want a smoke. This is one of those times I just want to unwind with a few cigars and not think about anything.

True to his desire, he took out a cigar, put it in his mouth, cut it, lit up, and puffed.

Thus exhaling smoke in lieu of sighing, John, with his somewhat aloof John Bull spirit,7 cursed the heavens. Of course, he was proud of his ability to keep calm and collected in any situation, but even for him this one was a challenge.

I can handle the homeland's "cuisine," but spare me Habergram's angry screams. More than a few from Intelligence grumbled in that vein.

Reluctantly—well and truly reluctantly—John disembarked in the Commonwealth. Besides tea, there was nothing that could soothe his heart.

Ahh, he lamented, but he would do his best. He just had to think of the cancellation of his vacation and sudden business trip to the Republic as earning money for his family.

Good grief. With that mental murmur, he plunged into the storm of making his report.

He got a sense of the situation from the looks on the faces of the people passing by, but he still had to go. Granted, he wasn't sure if his meager salary covered observing a man who was like a dragon when he flew into a rage.

Grumbling internally, he didn't let it show on his face as he entered the room. He gave the waiting major general an oral report that covered the main points.

Maybe you could say "luckily," or maybe you would just say he was used to it, but he had enough time to plug his ears as he finished speaking.

Naturally, he made use of it immediately. " DON'T FUCK WITH ME!"

Forged by salty tides, the natural voice of a seaman who had been with the navy since the days of sailing ships was loud enough to thunder over even a stormy ocean. And this angry general's screams were even louder.

Major General Habergram of the Foreign Strategy Division.

The fist he pounded down was bloodied, but it broke the desk nonetheless—the desk made of oak, known for its durability. What magnificent power. John watched with a somewhat faraway gaze and endeavored to understand his boss's eccentric behavior in an objective way.

He could probably even make a living as a baritsu instructor.

"Ah. That said, you know, the sole survivor was apparently burned before he knew it."

"Mr. John" feigned a sigh, all but saying he had plugged his ears because he knew he would be screamed at.

John had known Habergram for a long time. As a result, he also knew what might calm the man down a little.

"The survivor is in an extremely precarious condition. Unfortunately, I don't think he'll be able to hold out much longer. He only finally spoke just a little while ago." John explained why they couldn't question the survivor before being asked. "We have no choice, so I think we should send him to a facility in the Republic for urgent care to save his life and consider what we have, all the new information we were able to get. I don't think we can expect a follow-up report."

He knew, however, that these words would have very little tranquilizing effect on Habergram, who was practically exploding with rage.

"Thanks to the fires, there are no documents left. Everything's vanished."

To put it plainly, the results of their investigation were not good. All the classified documents they had collected had burned up. The loss of veteran agents who might have discovered something was also huge. The only thing they had managed to learn from the Republican survivor was that they had been burned up before they even realized what was going on.

Anyhow, in exchange for that meager piece of intelligence, they were now stuck

writing letters explaining that all the personnel they had dispatched "died in an accident during training." And at this rate, they would have to blame someone for this huge accident and somehow fake it in a believable way.

The human loss was too major to brush off. On top of that, the questioning of the survivors was not going well.

"…How? How is it that a station so secret you can't even tell me about it gets targeted and attacked by imperial mages?!"

Agh, if there was ever a headache worth griping to the heavens for, this is it.

Now even John was being suspected. He had to sigh.

Is that any way to talk to an old man who's ground his bones down with hard work? Has the boss finally succumbed to paranoid delusions? John had to wonder for a moment as he retaliated with a hard stare.

But faced with Habergram's impatient return stare that confidently asked, Got a problem with that? John was the first to back down. Well, with such serious suspicion that we have a mole, everyone will be under scrutiny.

Not many people knew, but the Commonwealth's intelligence agency had been suffering a streak of failure. There were just too many "unfortunate coincidences."

It may have been an unfortunate tragedy that the section dispatched to the Entente Alliance got shelled into oblivion along with their observation post. When the imperial mages unexpectedly encountered the Entente Alliance fleet, it was possible that their stray shots just happened to concentrate on one spot—even if, in a turn of bad luck, someone the Commonwealth was doing its utmost to protect happened to be in that location. Probability theory showed that it wasn't impossible.

And the subsequent discovery of their submarine was also theoretically possible. Given the nature of boats, the chances were nonzero.

In other words, even if they could declare the chances were too low for mages to have possibly encountered ships at sea, it was not unheard of. Thus, the current silencing of any discussion regarding the cargo due to confidentiality concerns might have been the result of the product of an unfortunate coincidence.

So yes, one could argue those cases were bad luck, despite the astronomical odds. Then this happened.

When people voiced suspicions that perhaps it wasn't a coincidence, that it could have been a leak, an investigation was only a matter of course. Naturally, in order to conduct such an investigation, it was necessary to keep secrets. So the Commonwealth's intelligence cooperated in utmost secret with the Republic's intelligence agency. The secret facility where they worked together was extremely well protected.

Of all the things that could happen in the great big world, perhaps imperial mages just happening to also attack that facility during an assault on headquarters was just one more possibility.

Well, coincidences are just horrible—horrible enough that it wouldn't be strange to discover a mole in the Commonwealth… There John stopped thinking.

Frankly, what they needed was a realistic plan of action, not idle speculation.

It may have been an unbelievable story, but if it was a coincidence, he had to prove it as such or the specter of suspicion would torment him forever. If it wasn't a coincidence, there had to be an awfully big mole scrabbling around. If that was the truth, he had to shine a light on it and drag it out.

"Well, all we can do is make an inquiry." "…But we've done that several times."

Hmm. Maybe moles can burrow unexpectedly deep. Should we look even if we have to dig? John adjusted his appraisal of the spy. "I'll see what I can find."

It's a bother, but maybe I should shake down the Home Office, too.

He revised his plans in his head. If he was looking for a mole, he had to consider the possibility of leaks from other departments, too. Sadly, he didn't have much time.

The collapse of the Rhine front was coming. All military specialists agreed. Incidentally, "Mr. John" didn't have any issue with that judgment, either. It was more about whether he had time for a leisurely mole hunt or not.

John was the type who knew his limits. In other words, when something was

impossible, he thought, Mm, yeah, this is probably impossible.

-x-X-x-

JUNE 18, UNIFIED YEAR 1925, OVER THE OUTSKIRTS OF PARISII

-x-X-x-

If I must confess my emotions at this moment, honestly, I'm feeling absolutely refreshed.

Good morning. Or perhaps "hello"? "Good night"? I'm not sure which greeting is appropriate, but I'm not averse to wishing everyone good day with a smile.

On the contrary, I'll smile and send a greeting to not only the people of our beloved Empire but everyone in the whole world—straight from the imperial Rhine lines where we continue mopping up enemy.

Yes, thinks Tanya, relaxing her lips into a gracious smile and recalling the moment they crossed the wasteland below. That is what used to be the Rhine front. The abundant greenery, the brooks that used to be resting places, all shelled into nothing. Nothing but the desolate remnants of trenches remain.

I was here with my fellow soldiers, and some of them are here still, their bleached skeletons buried beneath the earth. After crossing that bony soil, luring in the main forces of the Republican Army, and then encircling and annihilating them, there is nothing to stop us on the road to Parisii.

Yes, we're advancing on the escargots' Parisii. Now that ending the war with our own hands is more than just a dream, the scenery is so wonderful it makes me want to praise the Reich, crown of the world.

Was this as expected? Or was it strange that there was no resistance? The mage vanguard only makes contact with Republican forces on the outskirts of the city. But what luck—they manage to acquire the railroads intact, so they even have heavy artillery.

That makes the advance a bit sluggish, but all the officers of the Imperial Army, including Tanya, believe that the attack will continue unhindered and that the capture of the city is only a matter of time.

That scene, in a way, is something not just Imperial Army officers but officers from any army have dreamed of. The attack is so glorious that a competition even begins to see

who can be the first to storm into the enemy nation's capital.

And then the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion, part of that vanguard who reached the outskirts of Parisii, finally finds some Republican soldiers prepared to defend their capital to the death.

From above, it looks like it must be mainly units that were garrisoned in Parisii. What she can see seems like about two divisions—infantry divisions bearing no similarity to the armored or mechanized varieties. From the dearth of young people, she infers that these units must be mainly an emergency mobilization of reserves.

Though the army is currently building trenches in the suburbs, behind them, the city streets and their pristine rows of buildings seem to remain entirely untouched by field engineers—at least, as far as she can tell from the positions being constructed below her.

…They should have at least dismantled some structures, to give themselves a clear line for their defensive fire, and blown up bridge pillars, but they didn't.

Too bad for the guys who were emergency mobilized, but apparently they were being made to defend the city from the outskirts because the government was hesitant to wage urban warfare in the capital.

"…Those poor guys. They really lost the boss lottery. I—or rather, the Imperial Army in general—we're extremely blessed in comparison."

…Or maybe if they had been trained appropriately and holed up in sturdy, entrenched defensive positions with heavy artillery backup they would have managed to be a threat.

As it is… Tanya chuckles to herself.

A mere two divisions won't be enough to stop the tide of an Imperial Army fresh off its victory on the Rhine lines. The Republicans actually are pitiful for having a superior officer who would order something so ridiculous. On that point, Tanya is glad to be blessed with mostly good human relations, beginning with General von Zettour, but really from the bottom on all the way up.

"Fairy 01 to CP. It's just as we heard. Infantry two divisions strong are constructing defensive positions."

"Roger. Support the armored division until they arrive."

Lately, we're getting lots of easy jobs—it's great.

Just as she was thinking that, Intelligence had hit them with some enemy intel that could actually prove to be a threat: The Republican Army was building defensive lines around the periphery of Parisii. On top of that, multiple other divisions seemed to be gathering to defend the city. That has been the big news for a little while now.

Thanks to that, our plans to stand by got changed to a mission of recon and anti- surface attacks. It was news that suddenly made me wonder if I should I be happy about the additional pay or bemoan the reduction in vacation.

But, Tanya mentally murmured, looking at my current situation, I should celebrate receiving such an easy task with odds in my favor. I might even earn a bonus.

"Fairy 03 to 01. Data input complete. I've sent the observations to the artillery." "Fairy 01, roger. Now focus on observing."

Normally, observers face the most enemy interference, but with none of that, the sky is calm. Considering that over Norden the Entente Alliance mages managed to give us hell, it's surprisingly calm.

That's how truly peaceful it is out here. Aside from the occasional explosion on the surface sending up smoke, the sky is blue—it's a fine sunny day.

And as such, it was pitiful how wimpy the normally terrifying anti–air fire was. Anti– air cannons generally stick out on the surface, but Tanya and the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion didn't spot a single one.

Those Republican numbskulls probably thought installing cannons in their city would tarnish its beauty. Or maybe they didn't want to alarm the citizenry by intimating that the battlefield would come so close. In any case, as far as Tanya and her unit can tell, the enemy is extremely weak in anti–air fire.

Even flying through, all they spot are a few 40 mm machine guns. There are none of the terrible 127 mm cannons.

On top of that, there's no sign of what would usually be the mages' first targets, heavy

artillery. Actually, the greatest firepower they see on the battlefield is an outdated field gun. The trickiest to deal with will be the mortars issued to the infantry. Long story short, the battlefield has relatively little enemy artillery.

In close-quarter combat, heavy artillery would have too high a chance of accidental friendly fire; given that the most firepower a foot soldier can use under those circumstances is the mortars, then that's what they need to be careful of… To put it another way, though, that means there's nothing else to worry about.

After all, to a mage, that's not enough firepower to constitute a threat. As long as they're in the air, it can't do much of anything to them.

"Fairy 03 to all units. Be aware of the artillery's firing lines."

Actually, grumbles Tanya in her mind, the worst thing that can happen to us now is being mistaken as the enemy by our own guns. As it stands, the only thing to do is roll our eyes and trample them.

I don't want to be blown away by friendly 180 mms. Tanya should be in the safe zone, but she decides to fly higher just in case.

Her altitude adjustment isn't enough to cause her to lose sight of movements on the ground. Luckily, visibility is great; there are hardly any clouds. I'll just enjoy my view of the imperial mages forged on the Rhine lines firing away at the Republicans and their 80 mm field guns.

The range of a 180 mm is very different from an 80 mm, so I'm sure things will develop in a one-sided way. We have them literally outranged. That should make this quite easy.

Since we're on an anti-surface strike mission, not a bombing mission, we're heavily armored, which weighs us down a bit, but this is just one of those times you have to bear it.

To be safe, we assumed the dregs of the Republican Army's mages would intercept, so if spotting artillery fire was too dangerous, the plan was to throw a ton of grenades on the ground troops' heads and move in for a hand-to-hand fight.

So we loaded up on potato mashers, but now the artillery is going to handle the ground forces, so we have no use for them. That said, I can't cast off ammunitions bought with

the nation's money just because they're heavy—although maybe I could make the excuse that I needed to be lighter in case of hand-to-hand combat with enemy mages.

Ultimately, since no enemy mages appear, there's nothing to do but observe for the artillery carrying all this heavy stuff.

…So did General von Rudersdorf misread the situation?

"Fairy 01 to HQ. We've acquired the designated airspace. No resistance. No enemy mages in sight."

Yes, the Imperial Army has been advancing smoothly, but if we can really march right into Parisii with no resistance, something is off.

Well, but there is some resistance. But it's difficult to understand why they aren't gathering all their remaining troops for a mass effort.

Like, we're circling above the enemy capital with good visibility! This isn't just unexpected; it's unbelievable. It's so empty here it would feel more realistic to suspect we're getting lured into some kind of trap.

Nothing about this is what you would expect.

Usually, this airspace would be tightly secured. It's easy for mages to conceal themselves for an ambush. That's why we performed recon-in-force on the Rhine lines, to drag them out of their lair.

Our goal this time in Parisii was to draw the defensive units out by running attack missions on them, but… strangely, there's no sign of them anywhere. Even if there aren't any conspicuous measures like anti–air cannons, there have to at least be some mages. That's what we're all thinking, and I can hear people warning about the possibility of an ambush.

If the Republican Army tried to fly over the imperial capital, there would be a hell of an interception.

We were sure this whole area would be ready to saturate the sky with anti-mage fire that could penetrate defensive shells and protective films.

The troops accepted that forecast with next to no objections. They'd learned on the

Rhine lines how stubborn the Republican troops are, so it was only natural. But here we are with not a single shell coming at us. Unless a majority of the enemy are believers in passive resistance, they must just not be here.

In that case, it starts to feel like we really took out the Republic, but at the same time, a total lack of anti–air fire is kind of eerie. Are there a bunch of characters loyal to their duty holed up somewhere, waiting to blow themselves up to take us with them?

No, this is their capital. They aren't so politically blase´ that they would blow it up themselves.

"HQ, roger. Keep observing impacts and stay on your toes."

But though that may be bothering me, I have to focus on other things right now. The army wants to avoid urban warfare; they'd rather obliterate the city before the enemy can hole up in it. I have no objections to that. You could say they have the right intentions.

Rather than fighting a tricky urban battle and sweeping through each area in turn to wipe out the enemy, it's much easier to surround and annihilate them. Above all, it's effective.

But if we take the time to blast the city with our artillery, we risk letting them escape. Or it's possible that units will drop out of the fight and begin withdrawing. In that case, someone will have to cut off their retreat in the rear.

Naturally, if there are no other airborne units, the mages will be put in that role. If we're unlucky, my unit might be sent on a mission to drop in and attack them.

Of course, this is much better than being in the trenches.

That said, getting jumped in a city in the middle of enemy territory doesn't sound like much fun. It's obvious that the best would be to not have to do it.

All we can do is pray the artillery gets the enemy movements and terrain down and does their thing. Well, and I guess we should consider if anti-surface supporting fire would discourage a retreat.

"Fairy, roger. We'll be on guard."

We made it this far without getting Dunkirked. Once we win the war, I should be able to enjoy the rest of my life. Tanya is extra vigilant precisely because they are fighting a winning battle.

If you don't survive until the end, you don't get to partake in the victory. I don't want to get injured during my final missions.

-x-X-x-

JUNE 19, UNIFIED YEAR 1925, THE REPUBLIC, DEPARTMENT OF FINISTÈRE, BREST NAVAL BASE

-x-X-x-

The Imperial Army had breached the defensive lines outside the capital and entered the urban area, and the report stating as such reached the naval base at Brest promptly. Vice Minister of both Defense and the Armed Forces, Major General de Lugo had complicated feelings about the awful news.

Though he had been expecting the notice, to actually get it was incredibly irritating.

He was the one who had drafted the plan for just this sort of scenario, but he had only done so shamefully, weeping inside.

A plan to withdraw from the continent…

No other job in his life was so humiliating as drawing up this plan. Major General de Lugo had walked the path of light during his time as a proud Republican soldier, and now he felt utterly disgraced. Even more than that, however, he was filled with anger.

So many soldiers, his brothers, had died believing in the glory of the Republic. It was because of their voluntary efforts that they had been able to draw the Imperial Army's attention to the capital.

He knew that the time they were giving their all to buy would do more than anything else to keep the pulse of the Republic beating, so he couldn't waste a moment of it.

But as a Republican soldier, he couldn't help but feel disheartened. Shouldn't I be there lined up with my brothers-in-arms? The conflict plagued him.

As a commander, though, he knew he had to lock those feelings up deep inside. Everyone was carrying the same burden.

Which was precisely why he couldn't undermine the importance of fighting through. He had managed to gather all the ships he could at the Brest naval base in the department of Finiste`re without the Empire noticing.

To make the most of the opportunity, they were departing packed full of heavy armaments and resources, from the common to the scarce, in addition to many soldiers. The land and people they were meant to protect they left behind.

The collapse of the Republican Rhine Army Group was more than the fall of a mere army group. It meant the Republic's home army had been virtually annihilated. That is to say, the Rhine Army Group included the majority of the home army units, and most of them had been lost. All that was left in the Republic's home country was a vast, empty military organization and the stunned bureaucrats at the top. Most of the combat units critical for the fatherland's protection had been lost in no time. That meant there was no longer an army standing in the Empire's way.

When the issue of how to reorganize the lines in the battle with the Empire to patch the gigantic hole came up, it seemed like collapse would be impossible to avoid. The Republican government and military leaders were prepared to mobilize every last unit along with Commonwealth assistance, though, frankly, some knew that it was only delaying the inevitable.

One of them was Vice Minister of Defense, Major General de Lugo, and though he was executing the plan to abandon their home territory, he certainly had more than the standard reservations about it.

Logically, if they had built trenches and put artillery and soldiers in them, the lines could have been protected.

He knew that was a reasonable thing to order.

But the hole ripped in the front was so gigantic that units that could have held the line had been erased from their formation forever, not to mention the loss of munitions and the heavy artillery. Having lost the majority of their war production and other heavy industry capabilities, they wouldn't be able to sustain the same level of consumption as before.

But still.

If we could have gotten a hand from our allies. If the Commonwealth had only hurried

up and intervened two weeks ago. Or even ten days ago. If only their forces could have made land by the time the Republican Army's central forces were getting surrounded and annihilated…

If the expeditionary force had arrived and fought a delaying battle, maybe there would have been enough time to prop up a new front line. Even if they couldn't save the entire army, maybe they could have gotten some units out of the encirclement.

Having thought that far, de Lugo had no choice but to recognize that nothing good would come of going any further.

It was too late now. Anything else would be of as little use as crying over spilled milk.

The glorious main forces of the Republic were forever lost to the possibility of reorganization. Their home territory would be trampled beneath the loathsome Imperial Army's boots. That damnable prediction was now an inescapable future.

"…How's progress?"

He switched gears to dismiss the thoughts of missed chances.

The Imperial Army had wiped out their trained and outfitted elites. Forged in the endless combat on the foremost Rhine line, they were literally the best the Republican Army had. It was an utter shame to lose them. Sadly, the Republic would probably never, not during this war or any other, be able to muster a group of such elite soldiers ever again.

But the Republic still had a fair amount of men left, if it brought them all together. In their vast colonial holdings, they had troops and a wealth of natural resources. Of course, scattered as they were, they were only targets for slaughter or surrender and disarmament.

However—however… This also meant that if the Republic could band them together, could harness those human and natural resources, it could safeguard a bright future for itself. And if they looked at it as a means to control the weakened influences in the colonies, if they could get the remaining troops out organizationally intact—if, in other words, they could preserve the cluster of troops they had, they could build an immensely powerful anti-Empire army.

If they bided their time, it wouldn't be impossible to deal the Empire a painful blow.

"Armored Division 3 has finished boarding. A provisional brigade from Strategic Mobile Army Seven is boarding now."

That's precisely why I have to protect these heavy troops no matter what, thought de Lugo with a pained expression as he watched over the loading process below, practically praying. Armored Division Three was a precious asset, a tank division. And Strategic Mobile Army Seven was equipped with the latest computation, hot off the presses, as well as the newest capital tank model.

The combination of these forces was the blessing in this tragedy. That these two units had been in the rear training with their new equipment was surely unlucky for the front lines.

If they had been there, perhaps they could have saved the day. But if they're here now, the Republic can still fight. The Republic had managed to preserve units that could combat even the remarkably improved imperial mages, troops who could fight on a level battlefield with the enemy in this new mobile style of warfare.

Most of the mages were already gathered, thanks to their mobility. Meanwhile, given how doubtful it was that Strategic Mobile Army Seven would even be able to meet up with them, the way they rushed over showed their fighting spirit and indomitable will—both rock-solid.

You didn't even have to be de Lugo to be sure—the Republic could still fight. Yes, the Republic, as a nation, had not—by any means—lost yet.

It still had cards in its hand.

True, many of the Republican Army troops had been stationed on the Rhine front, and the shock of losing them all was enormous, but it wasn't as if the Republic had lost everything.

In a way, maybe he was putting up a brave front. But Major General de Lugo still had fight and drive left, so he scolded his discouraged heart.

What kind of soldier leaves the fate of his country dependent on the goodwill of another nation?

A soldier who can't save his own country is better off dead. They must stay on the lines of battle, fighting for the fatherland, their country, until the very end.

He wanted to scream that even if their opponent won the first round, the Republic would be the one left standing in the end.

So de Lugo wanted to gather all remaining forces in anticipation of a counteroffensive. He wanted every soldier he could get his hands on.

But due to the nature of the operation, he was up against every commander's eternal scourge: time.

On the one hand, the longer it took, the greater the possibility the plan would leak. If that happened, the would-be core of his resistance army could get attacked.

On the other, considering the psychological effects of abandoning allies who were racing to be with them, he couldn't leave so easily.

Naturally, the decision was pressing.

"…What about the special-ops team? When will they be here?"

It was under those tight circumstances that de Lugo was expecting the elite special ops team.

They were a group of mages created to carry out special missions. General de Lugo expected the strength and experience of Lieutenant Colonel Vianto and the others who survived Arene to be a huge help.

The General Staff knew, too, that if those mages managed to join up with the others, the number of options they had would increase dramatically. But it was true that waiting posed a risk.

"Their estimated arrival is in about ten hours. Since they're coming from Parisii, however, it's possible they're being pursued…"

…If they're being followed, worst-case, imperial troops realize we're here. If they do, all our work so far will be for nothing.

That was a fearsome possibility. Under their current circumstances, that would be unacceptable. Should we abandon them? Some of the staff, especially officers of the fleet, were of that opinion.

"…We'll leave in ten hours. Mages should be able to catch up to us over the water, right? For now, load as much as we can in that time."

"Understood."

But de Lugo decided to wait right up to the last second.

He was making a gamble, pushing both cargo space and time to their limits. Yes, it was high-risk. But those mages were a valuable asset. If they could manage to accommodate them, it would absolutely boost the resistance's firepower later on.

"More importantly, what about the route?"

"The latest check-in from Escort Fleet Two says it's all green." And most crucial of all…

Luckily, the sea was still free of imperial influence. The Imperial Navy was confident they had suppressed the Republican Navy, but that was just barely true, under a limited set of circumstances.

They still had enough muscle left to show the Empire that attacking head-on wasn't the only way a navy could do battle.

Furthermore, the Imperial Navy, with their objective of putting a check on the Commonwealth and Republican navies, tended to fall into the "fleet in being" pattern of thinking. It was hard to imagine them coming out for a decisive battle.

After all, with the Commonwealth's Navy on his side, it was de Lugo and allies who would prevail. The imperial military didn't seem to have much strategic flexibility.

"Telegram from Independent Submarine Squad Fourteen. No contact. The route is clear."

They were lucky that the Imperial Army hadn't caught on. There was no way ships full of supplies would be allowed to escape if they were detected. For now, at least, there was no sign of interference.

Given the way the imperial troops did things, it could very well be a while before they realized. Of course, once the escape operation was under way, they would figure it out.

He was sure their pursuit would be fierce.

So they only had one chance. He was betting the future of the fatherland on this one venture.

The moment the cease-fire was called—that was their chance. The success of the operation depended on whether or not the Empire found the movements suspicious. Or whether they could distract the Empire somehow.

"Report from the embassy in the Commonwealth. The main enemy forces are busy monitoring the Commonwealth Navy's 'exercises.'"

Were they idiots? Or was it just business as usual?

The Commonwealth's home fleet was performing emergency exercises as "surprise training" right on the edge of their territorial waters, completely distracting the imperial forces. Their fleet, air force, and mages were all paying attention to the exercises, which gave de Lugo a free hand.

Given that there were apparently no complications that would damage the gathered ships, the Empire must not have realized what was going on. Neither were there any reports of imperial scouts or suspicious characters in the vicinity of the naval base.

He didn't want to jinx it, but the situation didn't seem so desperate. "…Good of them to assist."

"Let's get through this and retaliate."

"Even if I have to eat that stinking Commonwealth food, I'll fight through. Can't wait for the counteroffensive from the south."

His subordinates' spirits were unflagging. The troops could still fight, at least. Even if they had to give up the fatherland to the Empire temporarily, in the end they would take back the land that raised them.

"Well, it all starts here." His resolve was firm.

Though he was suppressing his emotions, his voice brimmed with the spirit to fight the Empire to the last.

Major General de Lugo was a patriot.

He loved his country. He loved his fatherland. He was a firm believer in his country's glory.

If the Republic was no longer great, it was no longer the Republic.